


even in another time

by foxwatson



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Mythology, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 04:22:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6939478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxwatson/pseuds/foxwatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Greek mythological au in which Sherlock and John are the goddesses Artemis and Athena, respectively.</p>
            </blockquote>





	even in another time

**Author's Note:**

> This AU concept is entirely gg jon-lox's creation from tumblr, but I wanted to borrow it for writing purposes and she very graciously allowed me to do so. Title credit is to Sappho. Also I'd like to say happy birthday to Arthur Conan Doyle, because it is his birthday when I'm posting this, and of course what could be better celebration than writing the characters he hated as lesbian goddesses.

The humans called her Athena. John didn’t much care what they called her, really. And Athena was a lovely name. Not the name she preferred, but communicating with the humans was difficult, and didn’t always end well, especially not with all the things Zeus got up to, so John settled for keeping her name to herself. She got involved in a war here or there, but it hardly seemed appropriate to in the middle of a battle or a blessing or whatever involvement she did have to casually drop in, “Also I’d prefer if you called me John. I know it’s not exactly very Greek, but then you didn’t invent me.”

Part of the trouble with existing for such a long time was that you were always there, and the humans always tried to put a name to you, and it never seemed to work out just right.

John didn’t bother talking to any of the other gods or goddesses about any of this, in part because most of them didn’t care much for a consistent name and just went by whatever the humans happened to be calling them at the moment. She never bothered talking to any of them much at all, though. So many of them seemed to be constantly getting in and out of relationships and arguments with each other that she really just wanted to keep to herself mostly.

It was worth admitting that she even actively avoided most of the other gods and goddesses most of the time. The thought crossed her mind in an insistent sort of way the day she found herself lingering outside of the forest where she knew Artemis spent most of her time.

John had never seen Artemis, really. They didn’t have many big important meetings of the gods - and when they did have any kind of meeting, it wasn’t enforced. The ones who were absent you could tell kept to themselves. So Artemis kept to herself, too. John appreciated that.

She also appreciated that the humans were always talking about Artemis being the other virgin goddess. It was nice to know there was at least one other of all of their lot who found the gods as off-putting as she did.

Something about her train of thought made John stray into the forest. Not long after, a woman with wild and flowing dark, curly hair came sauntering out of the trees with her bow drawn, dogs growling behind her.

“Surely you of all people could find someplace else to hunt, Athena. Why are you here?”

John blinked, and tilted her head. “We can’t actually recognize each other on sight. How’d you know who I was?”

Artemis rolled her eyes. “Oh for the stars’ sake. You may as well have your name stamped on your armor. You wear armor, everywhere. You’re a goddess. You came here - not many would. Need I go on? You obviously aren’t a human and I could tell how all the animals reacted to you. It wasn’t much of a puzzle.”

John smiled. “Right, well. I’m not here to hunt. Just to... say hello. Is that a crime? You can lower your bow. I’ve not pulled out my sword.”

After another tense moment, Artemis narrowed her eyes, but put down her bow and put away her arrow. “You stay away from everyone else as much as I do, from what I’ve heard. Why say hello now? What’s the point?”

Before John could really come up with a valid excuse, she heard herself blurt out, “Well, I was thinking about names.”

“Names?”

John shrugged. “The names the humans call us. Mine isn’t actually what I prefer to go by. Most of the others just go by whatever’s current, I know, but I’ve never done that. And since I’d never met you, I’d never really heard your opinion on it.”

Artemis blinked at her a few times. “Ah. Well. No, I have something else I prefer as well. What do you... prefer?”

“John. You?”

“Sherlock.”

John smiled. “Nice to meet you, then, Sherlock. Would you mind if I came for a visit from time to time, as long as I promise not to bring any trouble with me?”

There was another pause, presumably one of confusion, before Sherlock shook her head. “No. I suppose I don’t mind. Just keep the wars far from my forest, please.”

Ducking her head, John bowed slightly. “Of course. Wouldn’t dream of bringing one round.” She stood up fully again and gave Sherlock something between a wave and a salute. “See you next time I’m nearby?”

Sherlock nodded again, and John thought she almost spotted a hint of a blush as the other goddess turned to leave.

It was a few nights later that John happened to be around again. The moon was high overhead, and she’d had a long day of fighting in battle. She’d thought she’d take a walk in the forest to relax, and then when she didn’t immediately run into Sherlock, she thought perhaps she could at least dip her feet into the stream which ran through the forest to cool herself.

Upon arriving at the stream, though, John had her breath taken away.

Sherlock was bathing in the river, the expanse of her pale skin practically glowing in the moonlight, her long, dark, curls heavy and damp with water, laid over one shoulder. She had her back to John, but John couldn’t tell if Sherlock knew she was there or not. She was about to call out, simply to feel less intrusive, when she heard a rustling a few feet to her left.

A man came stumbling out of the bushes, clearly watching Sherlock, too, and Sherlock turned with a cold fury in her eyes. John had intended to threaten the man herself, but on seeing Sherlock’s gaze, she stepped back, aware that she had plans for dealing with him. She merely raised her hand, and turned it slightly, and the man became a deer right in front of John’s eyes. The startled stag then came running towards her, clumsily attempting to steady himself on his newly increased limbs, and she stepped out of his way, starting to chuckle.

John watched him gain speed and run off into the forest, and she burst into proper laughter, almost doubled over with it. She’d have felt worse about it, but she could hear Sherlock starting to chuckle behind her.

After a moment, Sherlock was standing next to her, clothed but damp, and still laughing.

With a snicker still in her voice, John looked over, and said, “That was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Mm, and you’ve been in war.”

That set John off again, and she clutched at her stomach over her armor as she leaned back against a tree, trying not to lose her balance. Sherlock started to laugh full volume, then, and John looked at her to watch. The sound was beautiful, but so was the sight of Sherlock laughing in the moonlight.

She was the goddess of the moon - maybe it only made sense that she looked so stunning under its rays.

John finally managed to stand and dust herself off, and she shook her head again. “You know, I do think he probably deserved it, but... if he did, I suppose I did, too.”

Though her blush was harder to see in the dark, John could tell it was there as Sherlock looked away just slightly. “I knew you were there. Like I said last time, the animals react to you. They don’t always, to hunters. Not the same way. It’s different, when another one of us enters the forest. But him, especially with his dogs so far away... I don’t feel humans. I have to be paying enough attention to hear them. And I wasn’t. I just knew you were here.”

It wasn’t an absolute sign, but still, the words made John lick her lips. “If you knew I was here why didn’t you get out?”

Sherlock shrugged. “Did I really need to?”

With her mouth feeling a bit dry, John swallowed and shook her head. “No, I suppose not. Though I was sort of planning to dip my feet in too, actually, and have a rest. I was fighting today. Bit of a long battle.”

As John watched, Sherlock tilted her head towards the stream. “Would you like to? We could sit.”

The answer to the question she hadn’t actually managed to ask made some of the tension fall away from John’s shoulders. She walked over to the stream, and Sherlock went with her. John took off her sandals and sat down on the bank and slid her feet into the cool, clear water. The grass at the bank of the stream was soft under her legs, and once she’d slid her hands over it, John laid down, leaning back onto the grass behind her.

She turned her head to watch as Sherlock sat down next to her, then laid down as well, and they lay there in silence for a time before John started talking about the battle she’d been in all day. It was easy to trust Sherlock for some reason - maybe because Sherlock had trusted her, bathing when she knew John was near, trusting that John wouldn’t have any kind of violent intentions. She talked, and Sherlock listened, her fascinating aqua eyes locked on John, and they both kept their feet in the water of the stream until the dawn started to rise.

As regretful as it made her, John stood to leave. “The fight will be starting again soon. I should go and make certain I’m not needed, and help if I am.” Sherlock stood, too, and placed her hand on John’s arm, where it was bare.

Her hand was cool against John’s arm, and John leaned into the touch just slightly.

“Come back when the battle is over, will you? We can share a meal. There’s far too much for me in this forest. Some of the humans come here, too, but I still have more than enough. And if you’re tired afterwards, I’d love to share some of it with you.”

Though Sherlock’s offer surprised her, John grinned and nodded. “Of course. I would love to. As soon as I’m finished fighting, I’ll be back.”

The trouble with battles and wars in Greece was that they were often far too long for their own good. By the time there was another good break in the fighting, and John felt safe leaving the armies to their own devices again, it had been a full month since she’d last seen Sherlock.

She walked back to the forest still exhausted and spattered with blood, wanting Sherlock to know that she had done just what she’d promised to do in coming as soon as the battle was over. Once she reached the edge of the forest, she removed her helmet, panting, and looked around.

Sherlock didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight.

“Sherlock?” she called out. At first, no one answered, and then Sherlock came walking out with her hair up and her bow slung over her shoulder. John smiled at her. “There you are. Thought maybe you weren’t in.”

Sherlock didn’t smile back. “Mm, I was busy. Hunting.”

John blinked a few times. “I, ah. I thought I’d come by. The battle ended, finally, so I thought we could... have that meal.” She pushed back her hair, trying to ignore how filthy she suddenly felt looking at Sherlock’s perfectly tidy chiton and... everything else.

“The battle took a whole month, then?” There was clear skepticism in Sherlock’s voice.

Frowning, John took her helmet in her hand again, pulling out from under her arm. “Yes. It did. I just came from the fight, I haven’t even washed off... Wars can take years. A battle that takes a month is nothing. I suppose you wouldn’t know that, hiding in your forest, but I’ve been fighting every day because I promised my help to one of the heroes.” Straightening her stance, John put her helmet back on. “I’m going to go and clean myself up. Next time maybe don’t invite someone to something if you’re going to change your mind by the time it comes around.”

As she turned to leave, John felt a hand on her wrist. She wanted to shake it off, but the touch was so cool and gentle that instead she turned, and caught sight of Sherlock’s expression.

“I’m sorry. I thought... Perhaps you’d changed your mind about coming back. Please, come wash off in the stream. I’ll get some food ready. You don’t have to leave.”

Even if she didn’t have to leave, John still wanted to, just for a moment. Then she remembered the last time she’d spent in Sherlock’s forest, how it had been one of the best nights of her life, and she softened and nodded. “All right. I’ll stay.”

She did as Sherlock suggested, taking off her helmet and her armor before wading into the stream. After really looking at her reflection, John undressed completely and washed off all of the blood and sweat and dust from her body and hair, feeling much better once the cool water had taken all evidence of the battle with it as it ran off her skin.

Having bathed, John only put her chiton back on when she left the stream, and at that very moment, Sherlock walked out of the trees with her arms laden with food.

It was almost certain that Sherlock had been watching her, but John found that she didn’t mind. It was only fair, after their last encounter, even if it made John feel a bit self-conscious by comparison.

The sun was still in the sky as they sat on the bank of the stream, but it was starting to set. Sherlock laid out fabric, then set out all sorts of fruits and meats and other food found in the forest that they could eat.

That the food was delicious was no surprise, but after such a long and rigorous day, the pleasure of being clean, and able to rest and eat made John sigh out a moan when she tasted the first bite. The two of them ate mostly in silence after that, and once John was finished she laid back on the soft grass, just like her last visit, and sighed as she looked up at the stars, watching as they started to appear.

Sherlock remained sitting upright, but seemed to be done eating as well. John turned to look at her, and decided to speak.

“I don’t owe them anymore combat, really. Not now. That battle was the worst fight of the war, I’m certain. If they ask for my blessing or my assistance again, I can choose to grant it, but I think for some time, I’ll be resting.” She turned fully onto her side, letting the tips of the grass brush the palm of her hand, tickling gently. “I guess being a goddess means I’m supposed to have better endurance - and I do, compared to the humans, but I’m still exhausted. And aching. Hard as it would be for a human to kill me, I’m still not invincible.”

John heard Sherlock hum, and she looked up again, at the source of the sound. Sherlock still looked gorgeous in the moonlight. Her cool hands and her sharp tongue and her skills should have made her seem cold and distant, but she looked soft, even with her hair up and everything perfectly clean and pressed. John felt like she knew her already - had known her for a hundred years, even though they’d only spent a little time together.

Licking her lips, John pushed up onto her hands, to get closer to Sherlock again. “Did you really think I wasn’t coming back?” she asked quietly.

Sherlock looked away, and shrugged. “I... Didn’t want to. But it wouldn’t have been the first time.” John sat up properly, then nodded for her to go on. “I mean, not exactly the same situation, but generally the more people know about me the less they want to be around me. There are many reasons I stay here and keep to myself more often than not.”

“Last time was the most fun I’ve had in an age. I wanted to come back. I just thought I should wait until I’d finished the battle, like you’d said.” She paused for a moment. “If anything, I was afraid you’d decide you didn’t want me coming round after all.”

For the first time that night, Sherlock smiled, and John was helpless to do anything but smile back. “Sounds like we were both being rather silly, then.”

“Seems like it."

With the serious parts over, seemingly, John laid back down on the grass, and this time Sherlock laid next to her. Their arms were nearly brushing, laid close together as they were, and if John turned her head, her nose likely would have brushed Sherlock’s face. She didn’t turn her head.

There was a long moment of silence, and then Sherlock asked, “You said you’ll be taking some time to relax. So you won’t be busy fighting?”

“No, not for a while.”

She felt Sherlock shift slightly, and felt eyes on her face. “Would you like to stay here? In the forest? At least for a while. No one else would be able to bother you. And you can do whatever you like. I can give you space to relax if you need it.”

John did turn, then, and her face was very close to Sherlock’s. It nearly distracted her, but once she’d blinked enough to clear her head, she smiled. “You’d really let me stay here?”

“Of course. Why not? We seem to be similarly opposed to... getting involved, from what I know of you. We may as well keep one another company. If you’d like.” What had started off as a confident statement had turned into something more stilted and questioning as it went on, Sherlock clearly becoming uncertain as she kept talking.

Reaching over, John took her hand, and squeezed it gently. “I would love to, Sherlock. Of course. I would love to.” John turned her face to look at the stars again, but then glanced over. “Do you... have actual beds here, though? The grass is lovely, but...”

Sherlock laughed, loud and full. John closed her eyes to enjoy the sound. “Of course I do. When you feel like resting, I can show you. There’s a cave in the mountain just upstream from here. That’s where I go to sleep and eat out of the weather. I don’t really enjoy the rain.”

When John looked at her, Sherlock’s nose was wrinkled with distaste, and John smiled at her. “You can show me now, if you’d like.”

Nodding, Sherlock stood, pulling John with her. “Of course.”

Their hands remained intertwined all the way to the mountain, but they stopped walking right in front of what looked like a simple wall and Sherlock let go. She used both her hands to push some vines away, and suddenly there was a door, which opened into a large cavern. The lodging inside had multiple rooms, and any sort of imaginable convenience. Everything was beautiful, purple and golden and ornate - it was the first real proof John had seen of Sherlock having any kind of decadence. It was certainly appropriate for a goddess, and it almost surprised John, but the more she thought on it, the less surprised she really was.

“This is lovely,” she said out loud, smiling at Sherlock.

Sherlock blushed, clearly pleased, and started walking again. “Let me show you where you’ll be staying. I have a room - I think it’ll be to your liking.”

John followed Sherlock into a room that really couldn’t have been much more to her liking. Feathers and armor decorated nearly everything, and anything in the room was either blue, green, or golden. The bed looked comfortable, and nothing was excessively luxurious like some of the other decorations had seemed outside the room. Really, there was no way the room hadn’t been specifically decorated for her - and Sherlock hadn’t had the time to do it today while she’d been bathing, surely.

“Sherlock, did you make this room up just for me?”

With a blink and a dismissive sort of shrug, Sherlock simply said. “Why don’t you get some rest? I know that you said you were tired when you arrived. We can speak more tomorrow.”

John giggled to herself as Sherlock left in a rush, but she didn’t go after her. It was true - if John was going to be staying for a while, there was still plenty of time for her to try and figure Sherlock out. Not that there was much to figure out about this room - Sherlock running off in embarrassment and just plain logic had answered that question.

She did wonder, as she settled in for the night, putting out the candles in the room, just how long the room had been ready. If it had been since the night with the man Sherlock had turned into a deer, or if it had been ready since they’d first met. Either way, Sherlock had made a place for her, and that left John feeling wanted and utterly at ease as she fell asleep that night.

When she woke, John knew it was morning from the light coming into the room. Somehow, although all of the rooms were inside of a mountain, John’s room had plenty of windows for the sunlight to come in. Again, the thought that had gone into her lodging made John smile.

After leaving her room, she found Sherlock in the larger, open area they’d entered through last night. There was food and drink on the table, and John murmured a thank you as she sat and ate.

Once the food was gone, John took a moment to look at Sherlock. Her hair was down this morning, the way that John thought suited her most. Her chiton was a soft purple, and it was beautiful. As always, John found herself wanting to touch, but uncertain of what would happen if she did. So she didn’t.

“Is there anything you were planning to do today?”

Sherlock shook her head. “No, not particularly. Some days I walk the forest, making certain that nothing’s been disturbed or harmed. Some days I stay in and read or study other things. Is there something you’d like to do?”

There were many things John wanted to do. She tilted her head, and shrugged. “Would you care to show me your favorite parts of the forest?”

It was clearly the right thing to ask, as Sherlock’s face lit up with delight, and she dragged John out of their lodging by the hand again.

They spent the day walking the forest, and Sherlock showed John nests of birds and where the fish mostly lived in the river, and a tree where a family of rabbits lived. She showed John the place in the forest that had the most flowers, and paused to speak to the bees that landed on each one. Though she hunted in the forest for food and to maintain it, she clearly cared for each creature that lived there, and for the beauty that could be found in any part of it.

The two of them only returned to their lodging to eat at the end of the day, and they spent their evening talking by the stream.

John could feel that these sorts of things were going to become a routine - Sherlock, glad for the company and an opportunity to share the things she loved and the secret and hidden places that no one else knew. John, eager to listen, already half in love, willing to follow Sherlock anywhere she went.

As it turned out, she was right. She and Sherlock spent most of their days in a similar way. They would eat together upon waking, then go out into the forest, to hunt, to explore, to track down a human who’d done harm and either warn them away or issue punishment accordingly. In the evening they would eat again, sit or bathe by the stream, and then return to their beds.

It had been some time, although John wasn’t certain how much, when she and Sherlock were lying amongst the flowers one day, and John realized that it truly had been a long time that she’d been staying with Sherlock.

Propping herself on one arm, John turned to face Sherlock, who was lying right beside her. The sight of Sherlock on a bed of flowers was a sight that John had seen many times now, but it still took her breath away. John smiled, and took one of the flowers and stuck it into Sherlock’s hair, just to watch Sherlock blush and smile. John smiled back.

“I’ve been here for a while now, haven’t I?” she finally asked.

Sherlock blinked, and John could see the panic in her expression. “Why do you say that?”

“I’m not... It’s not a bad thing, Sherlock. I’m just saying. I’ve practically moved in. And you never really... told me a deadline for when I should leave you be.”

John watched as Sherlock sat up halfway, leaning on her elbows. “You don’t have to leave. Unless you want to.”

Confused, John frowned. “I don’t have to leave ever?”

Sherlock flushed again, but shook her head firmly. “Not unless you want to.”

As much as John hadn’t really processed it, and her heart rate picked up slightly, it didn’t surprise her to hear Sherlock say it - that she wanted John to stay there. Laying it out like this, though, did mean that John would truly be agreeing to live with Sherlock, and to stay with her for the rest of time, unless something happened to disrupt it.

Thinking on the time she’d spent in the forest, though, only really left one option.

“Of course I want to stay.” Still, John stayed leaning on her arm, watching Sherlock as she smiled, and her eyes brightened. John put another flower in her hair. “But... Sherlock, I...”

Sherlock’s expression turned worried again, and John couldn’t bear it. Shifting further, she leaned down and pressed her lips gently against Sherlock’s. The kiss was soft, dry and chaste, but still John sat up fully when she pulled away, and looked down into her lap. “If you do want me to leave I understand-”

John hadn’t even finished her sentence before Sherlock was in her arms, pushing John backwards in her enthusiasm, both of them falling back into the flowers as they kissed. John giggled a little as Sherlock kissed her, but kissed back just as eagerly, sliding her tongue over Sherlock’s lips, tasting berries and her laughter, the two of them breathing into each other’s mouths as much as they were kissing.

“I’d hoped, from the night that you came and watched me bathing, I had hoped...” Sherlock murmured between kisses.

“Me, too. Me, too. Me, too.” John kept muttering back.

They kissed for a long time, and spent the rest of the day and into the dusk in the field exploring each other’s bodies, glad for the lack of human intruders.

Eventually they only stopped and stood to go in because John decided they should have some food, and they held hands as they walked home together, both flushed and smiling with flowers in their hair and their chitons in disarray.

That night, after they’d eaten and they went to bed, Sherlock joined John in her bed, and John knew that things would continue that way from then on.

As they were falling asleep, John had the presence of mind to say quietly, “There may still be times I’m needed in battle. Times I have to go and fight.”

“As long as you promise to return, you can do what you like. But you can’t leave like that and not return.”

John shook her head and pressed a kiss in Sherlock’s curls. “Never. I would never.”

It was a promise that John was certain she could keep - no matter what else might befall them, her place was at Sherlock’s side, and in her bed, and Sherlock was more important to her than all the humans put together, as awful as that might have sounded to anyone else. No matter what else she needed to do, Sherlock was her home.

**Author's Note:**

> The bath scene is also full credit to gg jon-lox, but I didn't want to say that before the fic and spoil things.


End file.
